The boys are all obsessed with fire. My brother Tim constantly stoked the camp fire, and my nephew Nicholas even sacrificed his favorite stick to the flames. Mark couldn't stay away, either--he was a little pyro, throwing anything flammable (and a few things that weren't) into the pit whenever he thought no one was watching.
Tim has a short attention span. He spent long hours prepping the fire, resurrecting it from smoldering ashes to a roaring blaze. And then he'd leave it. I watched him walk off to the beach, go ride bikes, or just mosey around the camp while the four-foot flames sent scorched ashes flying.
Tim and Mark were equally enamored of the shovel Tim brought to dig holes at the beach. I'm not talking cutesy little toy sand shovels, I'm talking about this:
That's right, Tim brought a full-size shovel to the beach. The first thing he did was dig a coffin-size hole, and then call his wife Kim over to look at it. I told Kim not to go to the beach alone with Tim; I'm worried he might give her a little nudge into the hole.
Mark shared an equal fascination with the shovel. Every time Tim put it down, Mark took off with it, digging deep trenches in the beach. I'm glad to know he has job security. (My brother Scott always says the world needs ditch diggers!) Before yesterday, I didn't even think my son knew what "manual labor" was.
I learned that yes, Grandma can ride a bike. She wheeled into camp on Mark's dirt bike. She also took a spin on mine later on. The kids thought the idea of a grandma riding a bike was hilarious.
Marshmallows are fun. Especially when your four-year-old nephew is around. And has eaten one s'more already. And the sugar has kicked in.
Here's a picture of Johnny right after Tim told him to sniff the marshmallow because marshmallows smell good.
Yup, Tim smushed it into his face. And the whole family laughed. (I know, we're not good people.) But Johnny loved the attention, so he moved the melted marshmallow to his cheek. Which amused everyone but Johnny's dad.
We also laughed when Tim tried to give Johnny this "s'more": it was really a hamburger patty between two graham crackers. Johnny refused it, proclaiming it (rightfully so!) disgusting.
Making s'mores is very dangerous--helmets required!
My niece Hannah spent most of her time in the ocean; she only came out when she turned blue. My sister-in-law Kim found that building sand castles was super relaxing. I'm sure it had nothing to do with her just getting out of school after having a particularly rowdy class this year. My dad's favorite thing about the campground was that it was right next to the railroad tracks; he loved watching the trains roll by.
And what did I learn about myself? I learned that I'm a bit jumpy. Every time Nick wanted to hug me, I tensed up, and took a defensive stand. It wasn't until Kim said, "Aww, Nick is a hugger," that I realized he had no ulterior motives. He really just wanted to hug me, not sneak in and punch me. A lifetime of brothers has made me paranoid. It's nice (if unnerving) to have an affectionate family member!
I also learned that the scent of campfire smoke lingers long after it should...I've already showered twice since I've been home, and I still get a waft of smoke every once in a while.
But hey, that's all part of the fun, right?
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